


Wedding Bells

by AgentStannerShipper



Series: tumblr ficlets [22]
Category: Kingsman (Movies)
Genre: F/M, Fluff, M/M, Weddings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-17
Updated: 2019-01-17
Packaged: 2019-10-11 20:05:43
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,503
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17453411
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AgentStannerShipper/pseuds/AgentStannerShipper
Summary: Merlin and Eggsy have a chat before Eggsy's wedding.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> For the prompt: “You’re supposed to talk me out of this.”

“Jesus Christ,” Eggsy braces himself against the wall, feeling abruptly like he’s going to be sick. “I don’t know if I can go through with this.”

Somewhere behind him, Merlin says calmly, “You can and you will.”

Eggsy turns back around and frowns at his friend and mentor, “Shouldn’t you be agreeing with me? You’re supposed to talk me out of this.”

Merlin raises an eyebrow, “Am I? No one told me.”

Eggsy waves a hand, “You’re supposed to say that it’s a terrible idea, that it’ll jeopardise my position at Kingsman. That this life is too dangerous to take on someone else, that she’ll always be worried about my safety or fretting that I’m going to have to sleep with someone else or something. That I’ll be gone all the time and it’s not fair to her, and that I can’t be in the public eye because that kind of messes with the whole ‘secret agent’ thing.”

“Do you want me to say those things?”

“Um…”

“Because we both know they’re a load of shite.”

Eggsy blinks, “I’m sorry?”

Merlin winces, his expression turning pinched in that way it gets when he’s been upright too long, and he sits down in the chair tucked into the corner. As he relaxes, he says, “Tilde knows exactly what she’s signing up for with you. If you actually manage to get your shit together and have a conversation with her, then you’ll be fine. Yes, you’ll be gone a lot, and yes, you may potentially have to sleep with a target, but I can make sure you’re only sent on honeypots if absolutely necessary and as long as you’re careful about it, there is this lovely thing known as the internet that can be used to communicate over long distances.” Merlin smirks, “As for not being in the public eye, that’s fairly standard for those marrying into royalty. No one will think you’re strange for camera-dodging.”

“You really think I should do it?”

“I’m not sure why you’d think I wouldn’t.”

“I mean,” Eggsy shrugs, “you ain’t exactly the most emotional guy.” He pauses, realizing just how stupid that statement sounds, and corrects himself, “Okay, maybe that ain’t the best way to phrase it, but you’re, what, sixty something?”

“Fifty-three,” Merlin mutters.

“Whatever. And you’re a workaholic, and you’re still single, and I just figured if there was anyone at Kingsman who would tell me not to get married, it’d be you.”

Merlin folds his hands together, “You’re right. I’m a workaholic, and I’m single. But don’t think for a minute that that means I don’t approve of love. Love keeps you going, Eggsy. It gives you something to fight for.”

“That’s what Harry said.”

“Well, there you go,” Merlin says. “Harry’s a smart man, on occasion.” There’s a little twitch in the corner of his mouth, a carefully hidden tell that Eggsy almost misses.

He hesitates, and then asks, “Are you ever going to tell him?”

Merlin tenses, “Tell who what?”

“Are you ever gonna tell Harry that you’re in love with him?”

Merlin sighs, “I think I missed my chance with that, lad. Maybe a few decades ago, when I was younger and bolder and not missing most of my legs-“

“Those are really shitty excuses, bruv,” Eggsy tells him. “So what if you ain’t young? You’re _experienced_. You and Harry have been through hell and back together. And he _doesn’t care_ about your legs, any more than you care about his eye. You both fucking died and came back. If that doesn’t tell you that life is too short to waffle about on stupid shit like this, what will? Just go for it. Worst he can do is say no.”

“I think I liked you better when you didn’t talk back,” Merlin says, but the words are playful. He hauls himself to his feet, still a bit unsteady on the prosthetics, “But I’ll take it under advisement. And as for you, I’ll call in Bridgemont so he can start making alterations. We want this to fit properly.” He flicks Eggsy’s shoulder lightly.

“Hey, I look ace, and you know it.”

“Well, you’ve certainly looked worse.”

“Which one of us is wearing a skirt? Because I’m pretty sure only one of us has the legs to pull it off.” Eggsy grins at the bad joke, and Merlin rolls his eyes.

“It’s a kilt, Eggsy, and it’s traditional.”

“Heard it’s traditional not to wear pants under it. Bet Harry’ll love that.”

“Eggsy?”

“Yeah?”

“Shut up.”


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Merlin and Harry share a dance at Eggsy's wedding and finally talk about how they feel.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Because someone asked for a resolution, and I couldn't deny them one.

“You dance pretty well, considering you could barely walk a few weeks ago,” Elizabeth teases. It’s easier for Merlin to think of her as Elizabeth; she’s not Ginger anymore, and she’s not the Whiskey he’s familiar with. With a little time, he’ll get used to the shift, but for now using her real name is easiest.

“Well, I’m not about to break out the foxtrot, but a basic waltz isn’t too hard,” he quips.

“Hey,” Eggsy swings by with Harry (who had humoured him in a “father-son” dance at Eggsy’s insistence). “Mind if I cut in?”

Merlin pauses. There’s a moment where no one is quite sure who Eggsy means, but then he’s taking Elizabeth’s hand and trading Harry over to Merlin, winking behind the agent’s back as he and Elizabeth sweep away across the floor in much smoother movements than Merlin’s slightly jerky slide.

Harry’s hands are hesitant, “We don’t have to dance. Would you like to sit down?”

He considers for a moment, and then settles his hands more firmly on Harry’s body, “I think I have a dance or two left in me.”

Harry’s grip becomes more confident, clasping Merlin’s hand and settling the other on Merlin’s waist. He lets Merlin lead. “I never got a chance to tell you how happy I am that you survived.”

“I think it was implied by the way you hugged me for a solid minute when I woke up,” Merlin teases. He hesitates, because he knows exactly why Eggsy put them together. Then he admits, “I heard you, you know. Talking to Eggsy on the plane before it all…happened.”

“Oh?” Harry says faintly. He suddenly busies himself with looking over Merlin’s shoulder.

Merlin keeps going anyway. “It hurt. We’ve been friends, what, thirty years, give or take? And _nothing_ went through your mind? I was right there, right in your ear, I died with you, and you said your mind was completely blank. And it hurt. It hurt then, and it hurt even more after because god knows my mind wasn’t blank when I stepped off that land mine. All I could think about was you.”

Harry’s breath catches. “I was lying,” he says softly. “You…I know you hear everything at Kingsman, and I couldn’t…” Harry sighs.

“You couldn’t what?” Merlin pushes.

“I couldn’t bear it if you heard that you were the last thing I thought about, because Eggsy was talking about getting married, about love, and I didn’t want you to think…”

Merlin’s heart sinks. “You didn’t want me to think you fancied me.”

Thirty years of friendship means Harry picks up on the shift in Merlin’s tone. His voice is careful when he says, “No, I didn’t. Because you’re my best friend and I wouldn’t want to do anything that could jeopardize that relationship. You’re too important to me to lose.”

“And if…” Merlin swallows hard. “If saying that you…didn’t _just_ want to be friends, that you _did_ fancy me, wouldn’t mean losing me, what would you have told him?”

Harry isn’t avoiding his gaze anymore. He looks Merlin right in the eye, “I would have told him that in the moment before the bullet hit me, all I felt was loneliness and regret, not because I’d never loved anyone, but because I had, and I’d done nothing about it.”

“Someone?”

“Please don’t make me say it.”

“Harry…”

“You. I loved…I _love_ you.”

Merlin smiles. “I love you too, you daft sod.”

Harry lights up from the inside, his smile beaming. They’ve stopped in the middle of the dancefloor, but it doesn’t matter because Harry has let go of his hand and is cupping his cheek instead, and Merlin meets him halfway, melting into a kiss that’s at least two decades too late.

Then he startles, slapping Harry’s hand away where it’s moved from his waist to sneaking up under his kilt. “Harry,” he says lowly, in warning

Harry doesn’t stop grinning, “What? I do believe that confessing my undying love for you and having it reciprocated means I’m allowed to touch you. And I have been _very_ curious as to just how traditional your regalia is.”

“If you can keep your hands to yourself until after the reception, you can take me home and find out. Deal?”

“Deal,” Harry says.

Merlin doesn’t miss the little fist-pump Eggsy does as he spins past with Elizabeth, and he shoots the younger agent a cross look. It’s somewhat ineffective, considering Merlin can’t stop smiling.


End file.
